Devious Diva: The Unscripted Storyline
by KKDollZ
Summary: Welcome to the unscripted world of WWE. A world that consist of the most scandalous, jealous, disloyal, and secretive Superstars and Divas...T has returned...How we wish she just would have stayed, from wherever it is she came back from.
1. devious diva

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the WWE characters or anything WWE related, they all belong to the genius that is Vince McMahon. The concept of the story is Gossip Girlish, so I guess that belongs to Cecily Von Ziegesar, I just altered it some to fit with the whole WWE scheme of things.**

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deviousdiva. net

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**Disclaimer: **Real names of people, places have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Mainly, yours truly…me.

**Hey WWE Universe!**

Ever imagine what the lives of the WWE Superstars and Divas are really like once the cameras stop rolling? Well, wonder no more, because I'm one of them. From now on, you can consider me your own personal backstage tour guide.

Welcome to the center of it all, the home of sports entertainment. The place where my friends and I go to work, travel the world, entertain the thousands in attendance and the millions watching around the world-sometimes, we even entertain each other. It's the place and lifestyle that we have all grown accustomed to; our second nature and home.

We live in luxurious mansions and apartments. We do whatever we want, when we want, unlimited access and zero restrictions. We party like rock stars, look like movie stars, play like all-stars, and fuck like porn stars-WE ARE SUPERSTARS!

What can I say, it's a tough job, but someone has to do it. I suggest you lace up those wrestling boots because this is going to be one long, bumpy strut down that entrance ramp.

Something wicked this way comes…

**SPOTTED**

**P** walking **S** to another one of her excruciating, mandatory production meetings. **R** smoking another one of his cigarettes outside the **TD Garden**. Also, a familiar petite, alarmingly gorgeous blond unloading off the **JFK**; around the age of thirty? Could it be…**T** is back?

**The Woman Who Leaves on a Quest Around the World, Comes Back!**

Yes, **T** has returned. Her hair is longer, luminescent. Her brown eyes have ditched the dark circles from underneath as well as that sad look that accompanied them, they now have a deep oddness to them that make every on looker curious. Apparently she picked up a horrible habit of twirling with her hair, which makes us wonder about her even more. How we wish she just would have stayed away. But **T**, is definitely back.

Now that she is, we'll have to be out on the prowl of everything that's ours…AGAIN! Because if we're not careful, she's going to take everything from underneath us and ruin our lives.

Rest assure that I'll be watching closely. I'll be watching all of us-very closely. I can already sense what an incredible year this is going to be, I can see it, feel it, hear it, and I can almost smell it.

XOXO,

devious diva


	2. it all began at a party

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the WWE characters or anything WWE related, they all belong to the genius that is Vince McMahon. The concept of the story is Gossip Girlish, so I guess i would say that belongs to Cecily Von Ziegesar; I just altered it some to fit with the whole WWE scheme of things.**

******A/N: **This chapter has been revised as well as the first chapter; I honestly wasn't content with it so I changed and moved things around. Anyway, I will continue to edit the following chapters and add new chapters as I move along so just please be patient and I will try to update asap. I know that I have neglected the fic a bit; ok I neglected the fic by a lot but I'm trying to get back into it so, keep checking back-thanks! :)

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**like any drama induced story,  
****it all began at a party**

"It took all my self control to keep from slapping the taste right out of her mouth on that stupid 'family retreat.' What a joke that turned out to be." Stephanie McMahon scoffed, talking to her two best friends and employees, Gail Kim and Victoria Crawford; best known by her ring name of Alicia Fox.

"If only you could have seen the sight of him cooking her breakfast," Stephanie paused, sucking her teeth angrily. The mental image of them still stuck in her head and she sighed, shaking her head sideways as if to erase the memory completely, but with no such luck. "The way he assembled for her a Greek yogurt parfait and then having to watch as he fed her little bits and pieces. I had to restrain from hurling at the breakfast table."

Stephanie could feel the bile begin to rise in her throat and she sought out her drink, firmly holding the stem of her wine glass while gently swirling it in tiny circles before taking a long sip. She was in the midst of her second glass.

"What did you have for breakfast?" Victoria asked absentmindedly, brushing Stephanie's long hair away from her right shoulder to further admire the detail of her Herve Leger mini dress.

"Like it really matters?" Stephanie shot back quickly, feeling annoyed by her question.

"The point is that they were making me sick to my stomach the whole retreat, acting like lovestruck teenagers-never once even keeping their hands off of each other." She huffed, running her free hand through her long tousled curls and internally encouraging herself to forget about the whole thing.

_Why can't I be more like them? So willing to erase my whole past...why can't that be me?_ She thought silently to herself before drowning down the rest of her drink. The only way to suppress the thought of her father being with that woman was to get drunk-terribly drunk.

Good thing Stephanie came from the type of family for whom drinking was as normal as blinking. Growing up her parents believed that the more access kids had to alcohol, the less likely they were to abuse it as adults. So as teenagers, her older brother Shane and her, had their parents permission to consume as much alcohol as they wanted as long as they kept up their grades and their looks, but most importantly as long as they didn't embarrass themselves or disgrace the family name by causing a public scene, pissing in their pants or getting caught puking in the streets. Pretty much the same rules applied for everything else, like sex, drugs, gambling-just as long as they kept up the illusion of the Joneses, they'd remain perfectly fine.

But with great power comes great responsibility, as this, they were still learning, so let's not get ahead of ourselves-all in due time.

The bane of Stephanie's existence was Giuliana Giordano, her father's latest girlfriend; who at that moment was mingling amongst the dinner guest.

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she observed Giuliana making conversation from the next room. Giuliana Giordano always had something to say, and even when she didn't-she found something to say. That seemed to bother Stephanie the most about Giuliana because she made the task of ignoring her absolutely impossible. She was as persistent and talkative as the local Avon representative; granted she didn't resemble one physically.

Giuliana Giordano had a lithe frame, olive skin and exotic features that were greatly complimented by the immense poise with which she was constantly exuding. No doubt that that envious combination was what surely gained her worldwide popularity and respect in the fashion industry. But even the best in the world is naturally flawed and Giuliana Giordano's flaw came in one of those irritating, high pitched giggles and in spite of-it wasn't nearly enough to overshadow the kindness with which she treated Stephanie's father.

So now with this bit of insight, it shouldn't take long to realize that the bane of Stephanie McMahon's existence wasn't just a woman by the coincidental name of Giuliana Giordano, but _the_ Giuliana Giordano; the measuring stick of all aspiring young fashion models for generations to come-and of course all that meant nothing to Stephanie because still, she wasn't her mother.

Approximately two years ago Stephanie's mother had filed for divorce from her father and even though she had stated on multiple occasions that divorcing Stephanie's father was by far the hardest thing she had ever had to do, it didn't take nearly as long as they'd all thought for her to find happiness yet again with her present-day husband.

His name was Roberto Schaiffer and he was a very honest and respectable man; which made it difficult for Stephanie to hate him. He owned a successful jewelry line named appropriately after him and they lived comfortably in a chateau east of Paris where they run a vineyard together. It's actually quite a very nice life they have going on for them when thinking about it.

Yet none of that was Giuliana Giordano's fault, it didn't matter to Stephanie. As far as she was concerned Giuliana Giordano was just a mere cold hearted, home-wrecker. But, just for tonight Stephanie would have to look pass all of it and tolerate Giuliana Giordano for the sake of the dinner party her father had organized in Giuliana's honor.

Stephanie had to hand it to her father, he'd really put a lot of thought and effort into the whole dinner party; granted he had worked closely with an event planner after Stephanie refused to have any part in the planning process, but still, it was his vision that had come to life. The fact that he had just redecorated the McMahon mansion this past summer was also a bonus on this given night. He'd added new tones of burgundy and gold mainly to the living and dinning room area and he'd also imported new art pieces from Europe to add to his growing collection which always had his guest in awe; the man had exquisite taste for art-no doubt about it.

"Looks like Giuliana found her next victim." Gail whispered, nudging Stephanie's side gently to get her attention as she pointed her glass in the direction of Paul Levesque and Giuliana Giordano; Stephanie had been so caught up in her on little world that she had unintentionally tuned Victoria and Gail down to a two that it took her a couple of seconds to follow in Gail's lead.

Stephanie's upper lip curled in annoyance at the sight of Giuliana harassing her boyfriend with her unnecessary small-talk.

"Wonder what they're talking about?" Victoria joined in the conversation, crossing her hands underneath her chest before glancing at Stephanie from the corner of her eye.

Stephanie scoffed, using her upper back to push herself off from the wall she had been slightly leaning against, balancing her weight on both feet as she straightened herself from her previous position before slowly bringing her drink up to level, the rim of the clear glass barely touching her full lower lip as she raised an eyebrow, studying Paul's body language intently.

Paul seemed to not be directly facing Giuliana which allowed Stephanie to pick up on his lack of interest in the conversation while his mental discomfort practically shouted at Stephanie as he shifted his body weight from foot-to-foot.

"I believe you mean were talking about." Stephanie corrected Victoria before drowning the remainder of her drink and handing the waiter the empty wine glass as she clicked her Jimmy Choo shoes towards Paul and Giuliana.

"Vince tells me you and Stephanie have been dating for quite sometime time now." Giuliana disclosed, patting Paul on the shoulder in an effort to get him to loosen up a bit. She was trying her best to get more acquainted to people in Vince, Stephanie, and Shane's circle of friends since she'd be spending more time with them all from now on.

"Have you been talking, or at least thinking, about marriage with Stephanie yet?" Giuliana asked.

Paul suddenly stilled in place, becoming more and more uncomfortable as their conversation progressed. He didn't like the direction in which it was heading towards.

"What?" Giuliana voiced, curiously. "Don't tell me that the idea of settling down, building a home, starting a family and watching your children grow old with a woman like Stephanie by your side hasn't even begun to cross your mind?"

"Well, Stephanie and I have known each other for, literally, our whole entire adult lives," he stopped momentarily to take a gulp of his scotch; thinking to himself of what to say as the state of his relationship with Stephanie really wasn't any of her business. It was a personal matter to be discussed by Stephanie and him only, and even if he did feel the need to disclose his personal information with Giuliana what would he say to her when he couldn't even get Stephanie to have sex with him as of lately.

"...and have been dating for almost four years now, we don't really want to rush into things when we've still got our whole lives ahead of us, so I guess in short, we don't want to commit to the task of marriage and anything else that may result from it before we are actually ready to take that step."

"Hmm...interesting." Giuliana nodded her head, staring at Paul with the same curiosity as before.

"Well, I mean..." Paul scratched the side of his temple before pushing his hand inside his pocket uncomfortably. "We're both still caught in that selfish stage of our lives where we are just enjoying each other and the success of our careers that we haven't exactly envisioned children in our future together, but just because we haven't envisioned them doesn't mean we don't want them. We do...just...everything in due time."

"Of course, I understand." Giuliana responded, preceding to slither her slim arm around his muscular one, reassuringly.

"I'm sure we'll have plenty of time for it all...eventually." Paul replied, feeding Giuliana the same old lines Stephanie had given him when he approached the subject. He wasn't getting any younger and he really wanted to settle down, get married, and have children; preferably while he could still remember all their names, and he genuinely believed Stephanie could be the one to share all that with. He loved her more than words could ever describe.

Giuliana smiled softly, gathering her thoughts before speaking. "Let me give you some golden advice from a woman's perspective." She whispered, leaning closer to him.

"A woman always wants a man to make the first move and take charge; especially a woman like Stephanie, she seems very old fashion in values and morals and although it may appear that she has no desire for any of those things, in reality, she does. I believe she just hasn't brought the subject up for fear that you might not feel the same way as she does and ultimately reject her. Now, what I suggest you do is talk more openly about these issues as the couple that you are and in time you'll see that you both want and desire the same things." Giuliana smiled widely, content with her advice.

Paul only nodded in response, allowing her to continue as he tried to remember the last time he and Stephanie had truly been happy with each other and within their relationship.

He had just finished showering after his match with Adam Copeland; best known to wrestling fans as Edge. He was trying to get ready as quickly as possible for his dinner date with Stephanie later that night. They were celebrating their first anniversary as a couple and he wanted it to be special for both of them.

He took her to a beautiful secluded island that over looked the entire body of water that surrounded them. He would never forget the look on her porcelain face and the glint in her eyes when he whispered in her ear the words _'I love you.'_ It was the first time he had ever spoken those words to her and the first time he had truly meant them. No matter how many women he had been with-they had never been said with the same sincerity and love in which they had been said to Stephanie McMahon.

They had then shared a long passionate kiss before Stephanie breathlessly uttered those same three words that Paul yearned to hear; the meaning behind them holding the same significance that Paul's had held as well and he could tell just by staring into her mesmerizing, icy-blue eyes, it was like looking into her soul and at that precise moment they had become one in the same.

Now after looking back, Paul couldn't help but wonder where all that intensity and desire for one another had gone. He really did love her with all his heart, but he just wasn't sure of what had become of them lately.

Stephanie had been distant; in every sense of the word, ever since she and Paul had discussed life together, kids, and marital issues...things had become kind of tense between them, which only made Paul doubt their relationship even more than he wanted to allow himself to.

He most certainly understood that relationships were about compromise and he accepted Stephanie's worries and hesitations over the matter as he obliged himself to see things through her perspective but often times he wondered to himself if she attempted to see his perspective on the situation.

It stung as he often found himself musing over the validation of their compromises and their longevity as a couple and whether or not they'd be able to withstand the test of time before it began to jeopardize his and her relationship together. Maybe it had already begun to deteriorate right in front of them and no amount of love between the two could help salvage it, and if that was the case, he just didn't know how much he'd be willing to sacrifice or endure anymore and it killed him inside to not know. What if love just wasn't enough?

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So? What did you guys think, honestly? Let me know in a comment/review! **xoxo -A**

**TBC... **


	3. Rekindling The Romance

**Disclaimer: See the first chapter for details of disclaimer.

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"Here you are." Vince said, approaching Giuliana's side and placing his palm on her lower back. "Well, it's good to see you two interacting and taking a liking to each other. I'm glad. What is the topic of conversation among the two?"

"Just life-in general." Giuliana wrapped her arms around Vince's waist, closing the gap between them.

"Oh, a very broad subject, branching out to every spectrum possible." Vince brought up his right hand to adjust his red Armani tie, coordinating exceptionally well with his jet-black, one of a kind tuxedo made by the one-and-only, Giuliana Giordano. He looked handsome, everyone agreed.

"Do you honestly believe their relationship to be genuine?" Stephanie heard Randy's mother, -a close family friend, whispering to . , obviously not a close family friend unlike , but an invitational guest to the dinner party by association.

"I don't know them all to well, but, from an outsiders perspective as is what I am, I have to say it doesn't indeed. I don't believe their relationship to be all that genuine. They look so mismatched with one another. I don't know, maybe it's just that directs me to these thoughts. There is just something about her that I can't quite place my finger on just yet." Ms. Crawford answered back, lowly.

Stephanie stiffened, feeling herself becoming rigid, trying hard to tune out the recurring gossip about her father and his latest fling, Giuliana Giordano. She despised for her father to be at the tip of every culprits tongue. At least, every venomous-tongue culprit happened to be in synch with Stephanie's exact feelings towards Giuliana and that alone brought a smile to her beautiful features.

"I know exactly what you mean." nodded. "What about you, Patty?"

"I'm not sure what to think." She takes a wine glass from Brad's wine platter, "I suppose your theories may hold some truth to them, still, we shouldn't assume." brought the crystal glass to meet her thin lips, making sure to savor every last bit of the liquid to occupy herself momentarily from answering any further prying questions. She feared that if Vince McMahon caught them talking ill of his companion, he'd be greatly disappointed in them. Especially in her, the mother of his daughter's boyfriend. Sure, enjoyed gossip as much as the next person but not at the expense of other peoples' feelings, thoughts, and lives. Everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt and Giuliana was no exception.

Insolence! Stephanie would have said had she been able to hear any of 's inner thoughts. Sanctimonious deceiver! Every person, every last one of them in this room lives on sickening rumored deny it when everyone knows the truth? Might as well have fun with it if you take pleasure in diversifying the whispered lies or truths behind closed doors.

Just as Stephanie was about to reach Paul, she captured sight of what could perhaps be the most repulsive image in her life thus far. Having plenty of times shared and been a part of her father's wrestling storyline quarrels with other members of the company-she had plenty of scenarios to categorize this particular snapshot of her father sharing a disgustingly, passionate kiss with Giuliana in plain view of all her friends and family, but all others failed in comparison to this all-time low.

Stephanie having felt humiliated and betrayed by her father's actions turned to a different direction from her previous route to hide from the shame she felt her father tainting to the McMahon name.

"Hey, where are you going?" Paul caught her arm before she could completely flee the scene of the crime.

"Anywhere but here." Stephanie removed her arm from his grasp angrily. "Don't even think about following me because I just want to be alone right now."

Before Paul could reply back, she was escaping from his view, making a hasty exit with a shot of whiskey in hand.

"Where are you headed towards-alone?" Randy peered from the corner Stephanie had been ready to precede to next. "Trouble in paradise?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes, finishing the rest of her drink and shoving pass Randy. "I'm not in the mood for your snarky comments, Randy." She replied, voice fading into the hallways with every step she took.

Randy followed in trail behind her. "Let me guess, Giuliana Giordano."

"No." She lied, eyeing the room she had been looking for.

She reached her destination and proceeded to opening the French doors.

"Stephanie!" Called Paul.

Randy and Stephanie both stilled in place for a second when they heard the blare of Paul's voice. "Ah, it's not Giuliana today, it's Paul. I wonder what it is you did this time?" Randy couldn't help but smirk.

"This time?" She raised her right eyebrow. "What lies have you been hearing, Randy? Or, better yet, from whom?"

"Lies?" He chuckled. "Lies, are the ones that roll of your tongue, my dear, Stephanie. You know as well as I do that I only speak the truth, I have no reason to lie."

"Uh-huh, whatever you say, Randy." Scowled Stephanie, rolling her eyes, and shutting the doors behind her.

"Hey, did she mention anything to you?" Paul asked Randy, who was leaning against the wall with a cigarette in hand and a drink on the other.

Randy puffed out a cloud of smoke before pointing to the French doors across them. "She's upset, yours for the taking in that vulnerable state." He added, sneering at him suggestively.

Paul ignored him and resumed to opening the doors before him.

"Here's to you, Paul and Steph." He called from the hallway, raising his glass to them before the door was completely shutting him out of view.

"Not now, Paul, please." She begged, staring dejectedly out the window.

"If not now, then when? It's never the right time for you." He stopped pacing the room, standing next to her now, and taking her glass from her to set on the marble table. "We have to talk."

Stephanie turned to look into his honey-hazel eyes for the first time that day and she felt herself getting extensively lost in them. Her heart cringed when she thought about how long it had been since they had both shared a moment like this, both of them together-alone, in proximity of each other, and just gazing into each others eyes-longingly.

She lifted her arm to his cheek, caressing softly. "I'm sorry...about everything. I know I've been so distant lately, but, I just...I don't know how else-"

"Shhhh," he whispered, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, bringing her closer. "It's okay. Let's just stay like this for now." He offered, noticing her quickly fading into distress in her halting delivery in a matter seconds.

"I've missed this-us" She said, tilting her head to see him. "I don't know how I have just taken what we have for granted, letting it slip through the cracks, but, I am so sorry. Honestly that I am, Paul." She hugged him tighter, pressing her body closer to his.

He raised one hand to cup her chin."I'm sorry too." He confessed, placing a delicate kiss on her forehead, and then letting his forehead rest against hers.

Stephanie brought up her hands from in between their pressed bodies, running them slowly up his chest, slithering her left arm around his neck and tracing his lips with her right index finger.

"No one should look so tempting, it's not fair." He murmured.

The tingling thrill that Paul's lips caused against Stephanie's finger with his cool breath made her heart shudder in rapid beats and slow steady ones at the same time. "Tempting, how?" She voiced, innocently.

He smiled, enjoying the angelic, childlike, silly quality that Stephanie possessed. No matter the amount of years that went by or her bold, defiant nature, that trait of personality in her never seemed to have abandoned her. "You're absurd." He chuckled. "Would you like me to make a list of all the reasons of which I find you tempting?" He stated, evidently a rhetorical question.

"How about you just show me instead?" She proposed, writhing her right arm around his neck as well.

Paul leaned in forward to capture Stephanie's lips with his. Their kiss started off slow and tender, but Paul became eager, rapidly turning the kiss into a more heated and rough one as his tongue searched for entrance. Stephanie, of course-obliged, parting her lips open, allowing him entry. Paul lifted Stephanie's slender form in his strong embrace, and she quickly wrapped her long legs around his waist while Paul led them over to the marble-topped wet bar, setting her over it.

Soon enough, both stopped in the midst of one of their passionate kisses, to come up for air. Stephanie took one more look into Paul's deep hazel eyes and she couldn't help feeling like a lovestruck, capricious teenage girl, remembering all the reasons why she has always loved Paul.

"I love you." She whispered, pecking him on the lips with soft kisses as she unbuttoned his shirt masterfully.

Just as Paul was about to respond back to Stephanie's statement, the blaring, intelligible voice of an enthusiastic Vince echoed through the hallway.

"Trish Stratus! What an unexpected surprise!"

Paul released his hold on Stephanie, straightening himself up, removing her hands off of him so he could button his shirt back again. Stephanie sat still on the countertop, gripping the edges of the cool marble top, her long-slim fingers aching from the tight clutch and knuckles sore from the added pressure.

She allowed herself to face Paul to take in his expression.

But Paul did not waste any time in returning the gesture, he moved rapidly, heading for the French doors and out the room to account for himself that what he was hearing was actually in fact true. Had Trish Stratus really returned?

The picture perfect portrait of Stephanie's life had taken a tremendous twist for the worst. Stephanie clawed at the marble top subconsciously, wishing that she had escaped out this dinner party instead like she had first planned.


	4. T Is Back

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the WWE characters or anything WWE related, they all belong to Vince McMahon. The concept of the story is kind of Gossip Girlish, so I guess that belongs to Cecily Von Ziegesar, I just altered it some to fit with the whole WWE scheme of things.**

**A/N:** Okay, well, I wanted to get this story up to date with the other FanFic that I'm making of L&O:SVU that way I can update them closely to each other and I wouldn't fall behind on another, so I finally got then on the same wavelength so there will be more updates soon, thanks to those who are actually reading this fic! I really appreciate it, so thanks a lot! ; ) Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**T Is Back**

"My Trish, it is great to see you again!" Vince said, taking Trish in a hug and placing a kiss on her serene, hollow cheek.

Joy and cheer, spreading into the halls of the McMahon mansion with the new sudden arrival.

Trish took Vince's hands in hers, "I know that my presence here is abrupt and that I wasn't expected to attend the dinner party tonight," Trish spoke in a hushed, private voice. "I hope you don't mind my being here?"

"Mind you being here? Nonsense, Trish! You are always welcomed." Vince replied. "Are you here to stay or you just here for the weekend?"

Trish Stratigias, or as she preferred, Trish Stratus, removed her regiment red, double-breasted, princess-sleeve trench coat, shaking her head and handing Lenore, the maid, her coat. She waved a lock of hair behind her shoulder and smiled warmly towards her hostess.

When Trish smiled, she radiated brighter than the sun, using only her beautiful, mysterious, dark-brown eyes. It was the kind of smile that you secretly wish you could portray to others when you attempted your award-winning smile, the kind of smile that you would spend hours trying to perfect staring at your reflection from the mirror. The alluring, irresistable "I got you under my spell, and now you're mine!" smile that only international, well-known supermodels were capable of emiting on the cover of Vogue. Well, Trish smiled that way, and the worst part of it all is, it came as effortless-she didn't even have to try.

"Actually, I'm here to stay." Trish confided in her poise, cool aurora. The kind of aurora that was hereditary, passed on from generation to generation, because, come to think of it, all of the Stratigias carried that poise, cool aurora. They were all a perfect unite, complimenting each other with their blond, slim, good-looks and they were hardly ever doing anything at all-playing lacrosse, hailing a taxi, eating pasta, going to the bathroom-all while mainating their coolness. Especially Trish. She is unique with this bestowed allure from the gods that you couldn't even acquire for yourself by following through with 100 good deeds, or by purchasing the latest Hermes handbag or the ideal Manolo Blahnik shoes. She is literally the woman that every man wants to be with and every woman wants to be.

"Mr. McMahon, I actually need to talk to you about something and I know that this isn't the best time do to so, but maybe we can talk about it tomorrow." Trish revealed, taking a chance.

"It wouldn't be a problem to discuss this now, Trish." Vince announced, addressing his home office with his hand.

"Oh, no. It can wait until later. Promise." Trish pushed back a strand of her icy-blond hair before raising her right palm as if she was testifying in front of a jury.

"Okay, whenever you feel like talking about it, you know where to find me."

"Thank you, Mr. McMahon." Trish replied, resting her hand on his shoulder briefly.

"It's no problem at all." He said, finally taking the time to really view Trish. "Well, Trish. You look really beautiful, dear. Steph will be ecstatic to see you." Stephanie's father quivered.

"Well, look who's talking." Trish embraced him in a one-armed hug. "Look how sharp you look tonight! The house is amazing. Whoa. You have an exquisite art colletion!"

Mr. McMahon grinned, evidently satisfied, as he cloaked his arm around Trish's slim, statuesque waist. "Dear, I would like you to meet my beloved, Giuliana Giordano." He said. "Giuliana, this is Trish."

"Ravishing," Giuliana Giordano trilled. She placed a kiss on both of her cheeks, and enveloped her in a tight hug. "She's a great hugger, too," She added, patting Trish on her lowerback.

She twittered but she didn't shrink. She had spent close to a year in Europe and she was now accustomed to their mannerisms. She had been a full-on grappling inducement to strangers who found her completely tempting walking on the European cobblestone streets.

"Trish and Steph are the best, best, best, and I do mean the bestest of best friends," Vince McMahon deciphered to Giuliana. "But Trish went away back to her hometown of Canada when she retired from the WWE and spent most of her time traveling after that. It was really hard for poor little Steph with you gone the last couple of years, Trish." Vince said, feeling a bit sad for his only daughter. "Especially with the annulment. But you're back now, so let's not dwell on the past. Steph will be so _delighted._"

"Speaking of Steph, where is she?" Trish voiced energetically at the thought of reuniting with her old friend again, meeting Mr. McMahon's stare with her enthusiastic, dazzling brown eyes, her olive-tan skin radiating freely. She looked around the sea of people, heightening her view while standing on her tip-toes, twisting her neck in awkward movements to spot Stephanie at a faster pace. But she soon found herself in the midst of-the Levesques, the Crawfords, the Ortons, and the James-who each took turns amongst themselves to embrace her, welcoming her back and letting her know how much they have missed her while she's been away.

Trish hugged each and every one of them joyfully. All these people surrounding her were like a second home to her, and since she'd been gone a long time, she yearned for the day that she'd get to see them again. She couldn't wait another minute for her life to return back to the way it used to be. She and Stephanie used to walk down the streets of Fifth Avenue, shopping until they literally dropped, getting their nails done religiously, spending almost every minute of the day discussing the industry, their lives, their hopes, their dreams, taking random trips to New York just because they felt like laying in the middle of Central Park to stare at the clouds and take random pictures of their surroundings, drinking and smoking-feeling like true, vehement virtuosos. They would get together in any of the Four Seasons Hotel and Resorts to drink cocktails once more, which would always turn into sleepovers in a booked suite because they were too drunk to even drive back home. It was a hazard for them to even drink and walk whenever they were together. They would spend countless hours just laying on Stephanie's four-poster canopy bed watching her favorite Grace Kelly movies, wearing vintage lingerie and drinking cranberry and vodka. They would drive around Stepahnie's parents estate in Greenwich, Connecticut, in the supervisor's 1955 Buick Special Station Wagon, acting like insane senile women, harmonizing on old hymns they were taught in school as children. They'd break and enter into Stephanie's older brother, Shane's offices in Stamford, Connecticut to mess around with his files just to see how long it took him to ordain everyhting back in order-a work of charity, really, for Shane's wife, Marissa, because he was now the world's most complied, organized, neat-freak ever known to mankind. They'd go out dancing with their enormous ensemble of friends and then rapidly lose ten pounds for simply sweating in their fitted leather pants. As if they honestly needed to lose the weight at all.

They would go back to living their regular envied lifes in the fab lane, just like they've always known how and always did, Trish couldn't wait to be her old self again.

"Thought you might like a drink to refresh your dry throat from all those welcoming responses." Randy Orton spoke, gently elbowing his way through the crowded bodies and handing Trish a crystal of whiskey. "By the way, welcome back," He boosted, leaning downward to cast a kiss on Trish's cheek and purposedly missing the target to land his lips in the center of her mouth.

"Why Randy, you haven't changed one bit," she responded, taking the glass from his hold, allowing herself a long-calculated sip to settle her thirst. "So, did you honestly miss me any?"

"Miss you?" He chuckled, "The real question here is, did you miss me?" Randy raised his left eyebrow. "Come on, darling, disgorge. What are you really doing back here? What happened while you were away? Did you finally land yourself a boyfriend?"

"Really, Randy? Come on!" She said, clasping her free hand with his. "You should know by know that the only resaon I came back is because I want you with this intense passion. In fact, I've always wanted you."

Randy couldn't help but take a step back, clearing his throat as his face flamed. She had clearly caught him off guard, an unimaginable triumph.

"Well, I'll tell you what...I'm engaged for the remainder of this month, but how about I pencil you in on the waithing list," Randy voiced haughtly, attempting to regain his nonchalant attitude.

But Trish was barely listening to his audio anymore. Her briliant dark-brown eyes, gazing around the room for the two people she was most desperately dying to see the most, Stepahnie and Paul.

Finally Trish's eyes set upon their form when she found them. Paul was leaning tall against the doorway to the hall, and Stephanie's slender frame stood just behind his opposing figure, straightening her black, sleek dress. At this point, Paul met Trish's gaze and he subconsciously bit hard on his lower bottom lip the way he was accustomed to whenever he felt chagrin. After the feeling subsided, then he smiled.

Those eyes. That smile. That face.

"Hey, come here," Trish mouthed towards him, waving him over to her.

Trish could feel her heart begin to accelerate in speed as she saw him make his way through the crowd towards her. She couldn't help notice that he looked better since the last time she saw him, much better.

Little did she know, that Paul's heart beat had surpassed hers long ago! Since he first made contact with her.

"Hey, stranger," Trish breathed in his scent when Paul hugged her. She wanted to remember everything she had missed. She was reliefed to find that some things never changed, he smelled like he always had. Like the freshest, distinctive, most enticing man alive. Trish could feel the tears welding in her eyes as she buried her face into Paul's chest. Now she really felt like she was home.

Paul felt the burning of his cheeks start to flush and he had to constantly keep reminding himself to _calm down_. But he couldn't comply with his own orders. The most dominat and irrartional part of him wanted to pick her up in his arms and twirl her around in his embrace, kissing her all over her face, while repeatedly telling her of all the ways he loved her. But he couldn't.

Paul was the only son of a navy captain and an Romanian society hostess. His father was a skillful sailor and strikingly handsome, but showed no human emotion whatsoever. Funny, because his mother was the complete opposite, she always found the time to bask in her son's glory and the one always at the risk of emotional outbusrts during which she could most likely be found locked away in a nearby room with her favorite companion, a bottle of champagne, while she dialed her sister on her yacht in Greece. I guess it's true what they say, opposites do attract. Sad how Paul was always on the verge of losing all control over his emotions, almost about to let the world know how he really felt, but god forbide he make a scene or reveal something he may live to regret later. Instead, he chose to live a lie and let others reign the direction of his life, while he relaxed in the passenger seat, enjoying the scenery as it passed him by.

He may look like a breathtaking stud and the epitome of strength, but, he was actually weak underneath it all.

"So, tell me, what have you been up to?" Paul asked, trying to keep his breaths at a steady pace. "We really missed you, you know."

Notice how he didn't even have the courage in him to say, _"I missed you"?_

"Hmmm," Trish started, "What have I been up to?" She repeated after Paul. She giggled. "Oh, Paul, if you only knew the half of what I've been up to. You'd be embarrassed just to ask that very thought. Truth is, I've been oh so, very bad."

Paul could feel the curling of his fingers turning into compulsory clenched fists. Oh, how he had really missed this girl.

Feeling ignored as usual, Randy slouched away from Trish and Paul to met across the room with Stephanie, who again was now being accompanied by Mickie and Victoria.

"I bet a million of my own money that she's back to cause havoc here in the states," Randy told them. "After probably being exported from over seas for transmitting all kinds of social diseases to the native citizens. She alone is perhaps the sole cause of the expanding rates in chlamydia yearly." He slid a hand around Stephanie's shoulders, offering her his drink, but she refused it. "And, she's been thoroughly fucked! Doesn't it appear so to you three?" He paused to take in their expressions, but got nothing back in response, so he resumed. "She looks like she could have ran a ring of prostitution all over Europe, Die Stratigus Underground Akademie der Prostitution." He laughed at his own idiot jokes. "If you ask me, she looks hungry for more, and looks like she has just set her beady, lustful eyes on her pry. I've seen this on the Animal Planet before, it doesn't end well, Steph." He added.

Stephanie felt the brunt of Randy's words and snatched the drink he offered before, gulping down the hard liquor, feeling the sting in her throat.

"Whoa, Steph, cool dowm on the liquor there." He said, disposing of the empty tumbler.

Victoria furrowed her eyebrows, pouting her lips, turning to her left towards the other three, "Well, she does come off as pretty dazed to me too," she shrugged. "Maybe she's on opium."

"Or, it could be some kind of prescription drug?" Micki offered. "You know the kind, like, Prozac or Xanax. Maybe she's gone totally psychotic."

"I don't know, she always fascinated about science," Victoria stirred, making a point. "Maybe she was creating her own methamphetamine."

"Another theory hitting the fan is that she joined some kind of sex cult in France, and she's been charmed to think about sex all the time." Randy chuckled. "Now all she wants is sex, she has to have it all the time." He whispered in Stephanie's ear, trying to uprise the anger in her.

Stephanie rolled her eyes, questioning her friends sanity, choosing instead to keep their ridiculous talk out of mind. She attempted to focus on other things in mind, but, ultimately always settled on one thought, _Is dinner ever going to be ready?_

She had forgotten about everything Trish in her absence. How beautiful she really was. How her hair sparkled under the sunlight. How she flared up a dim room with just her smile. How perfect her complexion really was. But she had forgotten about the most vital detail of all, how Paul looked when he stared at her-almost as if he never wanted to blink, ever again! He was never seen staring at Stephanie in that manner.

"Hey Steph, I'm sure she must have revealed to you that she was coming back to the states," Randy spoke, "So clue us in, what's the deal?"

Stephanie turned to look at him with a void expression tainting her features, the porcelain of her face turning into the slightest faint of crimson red. The honest to God truth, was that she hadn't spoken to Trish in almost a little over a year.

In the beginning, when Trish had first left to her hometown of Canada after her retirement she had really missed Trish. A lot. She was like the sister that she never had, so, how could she ever replace her. But then life got a hell of a lot better for Stephanie, and she soon found out how much easier life would be without living behind Trish's shadows, she would now be able to shine in her own light without Trish's constant hovering around. All of a sudden Stephanie was the most beautiful, the most intelligent, the most admired, the most perfect, the most it of the moment. She became the one everyone turned to for everything. So Stephanie got over missing Trish so much. But still, that didn't stop her from feeling the guilt of not replying to Trish's indiscreet and detached emails talking about all the fun she was having all over Europe.

_Went on a date on the Eiffel Tower and then mingled with the most interesting people on a yacht in Monaco!_

_So chaotic last night! I can't even remember any of the events that happened throughout that same day...I need an aspirin, OW! :(_

The last news from her Stepahnie can recall receiving was a postcard from London this past winter:

_"Steph: Just turned 33 in London time! Can you believe the Christmas Carolers sang happy birthday to little ol' me in the square?? I think I'm in love with London! I miss you so much! Love, Trish, Muah!" _was all she had to say.

Stephanie had tucked it away inside the far away corners of her Prada shoebox, the same way she did with all the vestige that stood for her and Trish's friendship, the frienship she vowed to treasure in the traces of her memory and heart. The same friendship that she had considered the finite ending of her and Trish until now.

Trish was back. The lid to the shoebox was no longer secure in obscurity, and everything was bound to go back to the way it was before her deparure. As always it would go back to being Trish and Stephanie, Stephanie and Trish, with Stephanie of course, playing the uglier, annoying, lower, less charming, fatter supporting role of the best friend in the lead role, the talented, gorgeous, bubbly blond as the alpha female, Trish Stratigus, in their real life movie scene out of a low budget Hollywood film.

Or not. Not if Stephanie finally put her foot down to this nonsense.

"You must be so thrilled now that Trish is back!" Mickie beamed, with a wide smile. But when she noticed the look on Stephanie's face, and she had a change of heart. "As promised, I knew she'd return eventually. Especially, after the news I heard from her." Mickie hushed her voice, "Rumor has it, that Trish had an affair with the Senator of New Jersey. She had an abortion to cover the whole affair from the publics eyes and the Senators wife, their three children too."

"I'd be willing to bet another million saying that probably wasn't her first either," Randy sneered. "Just look at her."

And so they did. They all turned to look at Trish simultaneously, who was still talking up a storm with Paul. Randy saw the woman he'd wanted desperately. The one that he constantly fantasised, wanting to have sex with ever since he joined the company. Victoria saw the woman she wanted to emulate in-ring wise in wrestling ability. Mickie saw the woman that she would never surpass now that she was evidently back, and in the WWE nonetheless. She remembered all the times that Trish tried to mentor her as so to pass the torch onto, but people would never consider her as equal to or greater than Trish Stratus herself. Both Victoria and Mickie saw the woman that would inevitably pull Stephanie away from them and leave them only with each other once again, that alone was too dreadful to think about because their lives will no doubt become the boring same that they were before her. And Stephanie saw Trish, her best friend, the woman she would always love and hate, the only person she ever could at the same time. The woman that had always been the measuring stick in everything she ever did or aspired to do. The woman she could never compete with, and the one she could never supersede. The woman she wished everyone could forget.

For only a quarter of a nano second Stephanie thought about confessing the truth to her friends: She _honestly_ had no idea that Trish would be coming back. But how would that speak in her favor? Stephanie was supposed to _know_ everything, always in the loop, and how in the loop of things would she sound if she revealed that she knew nothing of Trish's return or really anything concrete, while her friends seemed to know all about her best friend? But the again, Stephanie couldn't very well stand there and look pretty, not answering any of their pestering questions. That would be way too conspicuous. Stephanie _always_ had something to say. In all reality though, who wanted to dwell on the truth when the truth was so dull, so uncreative and unamusing. Everyone always lived for the drama in life, especially, if you were Stephanie McMahon. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain, now was her opportunity to shine in center stage, and what better than to excell in her god-given talent.

Stephanie soothed her throat, "It was all sort of fast moving, really...never a solid yes or a no, spontaneous chic-even, very in the heat of the moment." She delievered mysteriously.

She twirled the sapphire ring in her left middle finger, secretly grinning to herself. The lights centered on her frame, the cameras were rolling, and it was time for her to start in the latest picture film-not including Trish as the female lead. This was only play rehearsals, the best has yet to come.

"I think Trish is really affected by all of it, but, I promised her I wouldn't say anything in her respect," She quipped, as she went along.

Her friends nodded intently, trusting completely the lies flooding out of Stephanie's perfectly-glossed, thin lips. She had them right were she wanted them, eating at the palm of her hand, waiting at the edge of their seats for more juicy insights to savor the moment of this night's encounter. Now, if only Stepahnie could write the rest of the screenplay, she'd surely get the man. Too bad Trish wrote the original score. But, what she doesn't know is that the card is always subject to change. Something Stephanie learned from dear ol' dad at the rightful age of five, so Trish would definately be playing the role of the woman who gets cursed by the goddess Athena, condemned to turn every living creature into stone until Perseus relieves her of her misery.

"Careful, Steph," Randy inputed as a forewarning, motioning towards Trish and Paul's direction, who were still murmuring from afar by the wet bar, their eyes never leaving each other's faces. "Like I said, looks like Trish has already found her next prey."


	5. T and P

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the WWE characters or anything WWE related, they all belong to Vince McMahon. The concept of the story is kind of Gossip Girlish, so that belongs to Cecily Von Ziegesar, I just altered it some to fit with the whole WWE scheme of things.**

**A/N:** I just left home to come and visit my sister in Long Island. But, lucky for you guys, I brought with me my trusted USB and I can upload from afar. Also lucky for you guys, I found some extra time on my hands since SATC 2 isn't until later. My sister and I have been doing these whole SATC preparations since I got here and I'm so psyched that I'm finally getting to watch the movie! Anyway, If I have time I'll post up the next chapter after the movie is over, but I'm not going to make any promises. Um, I want to say thank you to **JJ**, **SHUTUPPORTER**, **SuperDooperMario**, **KnowYourRoleBoulevard **, and **HappyasHell**! Your reviews mean so f_uckin_' much to me (Hope I didn't butcher anyone's username :/ )! Sorry, I curse when I'm in _awe_ of something or someone, it's like a term of endearment, lol. Also, I would like to give a shout-out to Devious Diva (Mia Silver) for saying the most sweetest things to me. She said that after reading this story she got inspired to create her own website, based on this concept. This story is also up on her website, you guys should go check it out, she has everything you need to know about the Divas and Knockouts. Here's the link: Okay, I'm out. Happy reading and writing guys! You know you love me, XoXo, KKDollz! ; )

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**T and P**

Trish clasped her left hand with Paul's freely in hers, rocking it swiftly.

"Do you still remember Bucky from Kentucky?" Trish giggled. softly, staring into him with curious eyes.

Paul laughed, still feeling humilated after all the years that have passed them by since then. Bucky from Kentucky, one could say, was Paul's alter ego, conjured up six years ago when they all had gotten wasted in Randy's over-the-top birthday party that particular year in Vegas. After drinking a good load of alcoholic beverages known to mankind, Paul had slowly begun to undress-stripping away his dress shirt, and Trish and Stephanie had drawn the silliest, hillbilly on his torso and back with red marker. For some unexplainable reason, that certain drawing on his upper-body brought on the rise of Paul's darker side, which brought on a drinking game. He ordered everyone in attendance to gather in a circle around him and they each had to perform a tongue twister of their choice, verbalized in-intelligible sequence, and of course, none of them could execute the task as instructed, so as soon as they slurred the tongue twister, they had to take a shot and kiss Bucky from Kentucky-men and women alike, so little old Bucky from Kentucky thanked his lucky stars that night and left home a happy camper. The following morning, Paul attempted to pretend as if nothing had occured the previous night, but the beast had left its residue, tainting his torso and back with traces of red ink on his skin. It took many days and many nights for Bucky to finally eat defeat and allow the body soap and water to erase his overstayed welcome.

"And, what about the Empire State Building?" Trish asked. She turned to look at him directly, studying his facial expression carefully. Neither of them willing to let the corners of their mouth turn into a smile.

Paul gulped, faintly. "The Empire State Building," was all he could manage to say at that point. Of course he remembered every intricate detail as if yesterday was the day of the forbidden proceedings. As if he could forget?

One dreadful, hot summer weekend, Paul had some business to tend to on behalf of the Chairman of the multi-million dollar company, known worldwide as WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment), Vince McMahon, in the company's New York offices. Trish was not located very far from New York, as her best friend, Stephanie McMahon, asked her as a favor to please oversee the refurnishing of her home in Stamford, Connecticut, so bored was she having to watch the dull paint dry from the walls of Stepahnie's home, she accepted Paul's offer to have the McMahon's private jet pick her up from her location to kill the boredom each one faced on different points of the East Coast. Where was Stephanie you ask? Stephanie, was at the McMahon castle in Madrid, Spain, in attendance of her aunt, Nicolette's third wedding. Still, her absence had not stopped her two best friends from having merriment enjoyment without her.

Paul waited for Trish on the platform. She stepped foot off the McMahon's private jet wearing a Betsey Johnson, budding bouquet-sleeveless dress with a bow and a pair of Patricia Glitter lace-up shoes. Her sandy-blond hair hung loose around her shoulders, the ringlets towards the bottom of her hair grazing her shoulders lightly. She didn't even have a purse, wallet or keys at her disposal. But to Paul, she looked every bit like an angel sent from the heavens above. He felt as if he was the luckiest and most envied man to walk the face of the earth whenever he was in near proximity of her presence. Life couldn't get any better than this precise moment in time when Trish strutted across the platform, encircling her silky arms around his neck, and capturing his lips with hers. That amazing, unexpected kiss.

First on their to-do list was to have drinks at the Empire Hotel upstairs bar, then go straight to Paul's booked suite, located in the same Empire Hotel. They soon become bored of being confined in the compartments of the suite that they decided to head out and do something much more...exciting. Trish suggested that they go the Taj Mahal, but Paul said that was too far beyond their jurisdiction, so they settled for The Empire State Building instead. Strangely enough, it was the first time that they had ever been together and took notice of it.

It didn't take much too long.

The reached the highest peak of The Empire State Building and soon after, began to get even more mesmerized by each other, rather than with he view of the city. The two quickly began clawing their clothes off and ravishing one another. In their defense, New York was in the midst of August, and everyone knows that the only way to tolerate the city's hot temperature is to get completely naked. Paul grew paranoid of the watchful cameras and guided Trish to a much more secure area, away from prying eyes.

And the rest like the dinosaurs is ancient history.

That time, marked the first time that the two had been together-together. It was surely exciting and awkward and fun mixed into one, but so sweet that they forget to feel humiliated. In their eyes, the experience was every bit what they had wanted it to be, and therefore, had no regrets of their actions-whatsoever. It was very romantic actually, just like in the movies. Afterwards, the two left back to Paul's suite and lay in each others arms, reminiscing on their time shared as one.

"We definitely experienced the climax that The Empire State Building promises on a visit." Trish laughed against Paul's bare chest, and then straddling her legs around him to pin him on the bed.

Paul rolled her over, making sure not press his whole body over her own as to not crush her underneath his weight. "And now, you shall be my take-home souvenir. A token to remember the trip by." He said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, pulling the covers over them. He resumed to lay tender kisses anywhere his eyes gazed upon, tracing her jaw-line and then down her neck until he reached her pulse point, vouching to her another climactic visit to the Empire State once again with the moon glistening through the widow, guiding their rite of passage.

Two weeks later, Trish went away to Canada after her last match with the WWE against Amy Dumas, while Paul and Stephanie stayed behind in Connecticut. Since then, Trish had spent every waking moment away from them-her hometown of Canada for Christmas, a seaport in Sydney, Australia for the Easter, and then her whole summer travel-trip in Europe. This time around, would be her first time returning back, and, the first time Paul and her would see each other again since their Empire State rendezvous.

"Um, Steph doesn't know anything about it, does she?" Trish asked Paul quietly.

_Uh, Steph who?_ Paul thought silently to himself, with a temporary lapse of amnesia. He shook his head briefly. "No," He revealed. "Not, if you haven't mentioned anything to her, she doesn't know."

But, Randy Orton was a completely separate matter, which just so happens to be all the more worse. Paul, unintentionally, blurted out the information at a party in one of his drunken stupors-taking place only three days ago. They had been doing multiple shots and Randy had randomly asked Paul, "So, Paul, between you and I, who was your all-time favorite fuck?"

Paul laughed. "Well, I'd have to go with Trish Stratigus." Paul gloated, like a fool.

Trusting Randy to keep a secret for long is a serious crime, one that should be punishable by the death penalty. It was way to succulent and useful for Randy just to keep selfishly to himeslf when the entire world lived to know scandalous details about their private lives. Randy didn't need to waste any time with reading _How to Make Friends and Manage to Keep Them Too_. He fucking wrote the damn book. People were always bound to be attracted to him like bees to honey. Although, he wasn't feeling very hot in the friends department. Randy always thought it necessary to dispose of them when they became dead-weight. Come to think of it, he didn't really consider them friends, but more so as acquaintances.

Trish failed to take notice of Paul's sudden uncomfortable behavior. Instead she just exhaled lightly, resting her head in his broad shoulder. She no longer smelled like Chanel's _Allure_ like she was always accustomed too. Her new fragrance was totally Trish, simply natural. _Difficult to define, impossible to resist_, to steal a line from Chanel-but in this case, it definitely applied. Truth be told, if anyone ever wore her natural fragrance, it would just smell like cow manure.

"Oh my god, I missed you like fucking crazy, Paul. You have no idea." She said to him. "I wish you could have witnessed the journey that I've been through. I have been _so_ very bad."

"I don't understand?" He answered, trying to conceal the terror and apprehension he felt unnerving him. "What could you have possibly done that is so bad?" For a nano of a second he swore he could see her hosting orgies with random strangers up in her European suite and having secret affairs with upscale, important men. How he wished he could have been able to visit her while she was away. He'd always wanted to have sex in a yacht in Venice.

"And that's not even taking into account that I have been such a lousy friend." She drawed on. "I rarely even kept in touch with Steph since I have left. And then, so much has happened in between the time spent apart. I can already feel that she is emitting anger towards me. She hasn't even found the decency to say hello yet." She did not dare to even spare a sideways glance her way.

"Trish, get real. She's not mad at you in any way, shape, or form." Paul reasoned with her. "For all you know, she could be feeling a bit shy towards you."

Trish flashed him a _come on, you get real look_. "Right," She let out sarcastically. "Steph, shy? Since when has Steph ever felt remotely shy, or even suffered from symptoms of shyness?"

"Well, whatever it is, I am sure she's not mad," Paul resumed.

Trish rolled her eyes, not believing Paul when he said Stephanie was not mad with her. "Well, on a different note, I'm so glad to be back with you all. Now we can go back to doing all the things that we used to do. Steph, you, and me will go back to being the best of friends and it will be like I never left. We'll work our asses off until cocktail hour begins. And you and Steph will be together forever and then you guys will appoint me as your maid of honor for your expected and much anticipated wedding. And we'll be happily forever after, just like the movies paint it out to be. It's perfect."

Paul felt the corners of his mouth begin to draw down into a frown.

Trish placed a hand on either side of his cheeks and smiled. "Does it really sound that awful?" She laughed. "I thought you'd be happy to have me back in your lives."

Paul shrugged, taking her hands in his. "No, it sounds fine." He offered, although he didn't believe the fairy tale she created for them all just now.

"What sounds fine?" A churlishly rude voice spoke.

Taken aback by the demading tone of the voice, Paul and Trish tore their hands from each others grasp, allowing their gaze to break from one another as well. The host of the voice was none other than Randy, by his side was Mickie, Victoria, and, last but not least, Stephanie, definitely showcasing ever single sympton of shyness on the spectrum.

Randy patted his palm on Paul's back. "Pardon, Paul," Randy started. "But you can't shadow the Stratigus all night, the rest of us want to know how she's been doing to."

Paul scoffed, tipping his glass to drink from. He only found ice at the bottom of the glass when the solid cold touched his lips.

Trish turned her attention to Stephanie, or at least she attempted to. Stephanie was making such a big deal out of organizing her diamond bracelets, and then admiring her luscious cherry-red coat of nail polish on her thin, bony fingers. Trish gave up on the wait and circled her head to greet Victoria, and Mickie, and then making her way back to Stephanie.

There was only so much time Stephanie could spend tending to her diamond bracelets and nail-polish cover before it started getting ridiculious. When Trish was only mere inches away from her, she raised her gaze to look at her and faked being taken by shock.

"Hey Stephanie," Trish shrieked in excitment. She placed her hands on the taller women's shoulders, using her to support herself as stood on her toes to reach Stephanie's cheeks. "I feel so awful that I didn't place a call before coming back. I wanted to though, badly. But, things just sort of got really hectic and crazy. I have so much to confide in you!"

Randy, Mickie, and Victoria all nudged at each other with raised brows and stared intently towards Stephanie. It was now evident that she had lied to them. She had absolutely no idea of Trish ever coming back, it was news to her as well.

Stephanie's face flared a hot shade of red.

_Caught in the act._

Paul was quick to spot the tension but he thought it was for a completely different matter. Had Randy already told Stephanie about him and Trish? Was he caught in the act of his treachery? Paul hadn't a clue. Stephanie hadn't even bothered to look his way.

It was an awkward moment to say the least, not one that you'd expected to encounter with your closest, oldest friends of all people.

Trish eyes scanned one face after the other. Obviously she just spoke the wrong words, and she swiftly noted her mistake.

_Okay, it's official, I'm the worst friend on the face of this planet._

"I mean, sorry that I didn't have the chance to call you last night. I literally just got back from Toronto and I've been so bored out of my mind."

Nice save.

She clasped her hands in front of her, smiling towards Stephanie, waiting for her to acknowledge the fact the she had just saved her, but all Stephanie did was look ahead pass her and onto Mickie and Victoria's expressions to she if they had bought what Trish had just said. Stephanie had been acting very oddly, and Trish fought the uprising dread that was beginning to center inside her. Maybe Paul had been utterly wrong, perhaps Stephanie was in fact really mad at her. Trish had missed out on so much of Stephanie's life in the recent years. The annulment, for starters. Poor Stephanie.

"It must really be horrible without your mom around," Trish told Stephanie. "But your father looks incredible and Giuliana seems so kind, once you get used to her." She giggled softly.

But Stephanie wasn't smiling in the least bit. "Then I guess I'm still not used to her." She answered back, sucking her teeth, looking out into the window and staring at a hot-dog stand located on the corner and she thought about how much she wanted a hot-dog right about now.

All six of them stood in the midst of all their maladroit, stiff silence.

What they really needed was a good, stiff drink.

Paul glanced down at his glass, and wobbled the ice cubes around before speaking, "Who wants another drink?" He raised his glass. "I'll make them."

Trish extended her glass to him. "I can use another drink, thanks, Paul." She offered him a Trident smile. "My mouth feels like the Sahara desert, that's how fucking thirsty I am."

When Paul directed to Stephanie, she shook her head. "No, thanks Paul."

"I think I'll pass on the offer as well. If I have another I'll be hungover at work tomorrow." Victoria voiced.

Mickie chuckled. "It's nothing new, you're always hungover at work." She handed her glass to Paul. "Here, I'll share my drink with Victoria."

"Why don't I give you a helping hand," Randy offered Paul. But before either of them could take a step, Mrs. Levesque tapped Paul's shoulder.

"Paul," She said. " Vince would like us to all sit down. Oh, and Trish, he made an extra place for you, next to Stephanie, so you girls can have time to catch up."

Trish gave an antsy glance at Stephanie, but Stephanie had already clicked her heels in the direction of the table, sitting next to her thirty-nine-year-old brother, Shane, who had already been seated in place, conversing with his wife, Marissa.

Trish forced her legs to move and pulled a chair for her to sit in the empty space next to Stephanie.

"Stephanie, I'm so sorry for being an asshole towards you," She whispered, taking her linen napkin from it's gold ring and spreading it over her lap. "Your parents totally falling out of love with each other must really be harsh."

Stephanie pretended to be unshaken by what she just said, shrugging her words off and not making much out of it. She grabbed a sourdough roll from one of the baskets on the table, ripping the roll in two and stuffing one of the halfs in her mouth. The other guests were still making their way to the dinning room and seeking their places on the table. Stephanie, of course, knew it rude to eat before everyone was seated and ready, but if her mouth was full-she wouldn't be able to talk, thus, not able to engage in conversation with Trish-and she really didn't feel like talking at this moment.

"I wish I'd been able to be there for you," Trish said remorsefully, watching Stephanie smudge a thick coat of French butter on top of the other half of the roll with a butter knife. "But, I just had some of the most craziest years of my life. I literally have the most deranged stories to tell you."

Stephanie only nodded, making sure to chew the roll slowly in her mouth. Trish waited patiently for Stephanie to ask her about her stories, but Stephanie had nothing to say, she just kept on chewing as if her life depended on it. She didn't feel like hearing all about Trish's fabulous stories in her one-woman quest to conquer Europe by storm, while she stayed here at home, watching her parents unleash the epic war of words, fighting over the antique furnisher that nobody even used to begin with, or the Leonardo da Vinci one-of-a-kind rare painting, or the intricate, unique gold tableware given to them as a gift by Albert II, Sovereign Prince of Monaco; that no one was even allowed to eat on.

Trish wanted to tell Stephanie about Ronaldo, a man of German decent, who had asked her to elope with him in A Little White Chapel of Las Vegas. And Augustus, the French Canadian uber fan who chased her down naked on the train's platform until she boarded seat on the train. About smoking hash with Pete Doherty in the U.K. and then having passed out from one of their drunken stupors and waking up surrounded by all the "Toms" and then just spending the rest of the night away with them because they had forgotten where they were staying. She wanted to tell Stephanie that she was dreading to come back to Connecticut because she was worried that she wouldn't be welcomed back into the company with open-arms.

But Stephanie wasn't interested in anything she had to say. She cluthed onto another sourdough roll and snatched a huge bite out of it.

"Would you like some wine, miss?" Lenore asked Trish, standing at her right with the bottle.

"Yes, I would actually. Thank you." She responded, watching Domaine de la Romanée-Conti spill extravagantly in her stem glass, all while deep in thought of the Empire State Building once more. _Maybe Stephanie, does know afterall_, she thought. Was that what this was all pertaining to? Was that the reason behind all her strange behavior lately?

Trish dared a glance at Paul, five chairs down on the left, but it was in vain, he was in the middle of conversation with his father. Talking about wrestling no doubt.

"So," Trish cleared her throat. "You and Paul are still going strong and are totally in love?" She spoke, taking a chance-_when in Rome, do as the Romans do_. "I bet that you guys will end up getting married and giving birth to the most gorgeous children, I mean how could you not...you two are the most attractive out of the group and with your genetics combined, beautiful children all around."

Stephanie rolled her eyes, not believing the words coming out of Trish's mouth. She already knew that the whole world prefered Trish over her on any God given day of the week-precisely because she was the more attractive one out of the two. Stephanie gulped her wine, her little sapphire ring clicking against the glass. She reached for the butter, slapping yet another blob of butter on her roll.

"Hello? Earth calling Stephanie McMahon?" Trish said, shaking Stephanie's arm gently. "Are you feeling at all okay?"

"Yeah," Stephanie bolted quickly. It was less of an answer than Trish expected from her, very vague and broad, generally answering any of the questions she had just spoken to her. It almost seemed as if she had just replied back to her in order to fill in the vacant response that she wanted out of her while she creamed her roll in butter. "I'm fine."

Lenore, and the rest of the help, brought out the Almas Iranian caviar, Mousseline of pattes rouges crayfish with morel mushroom infusion, Tarte Fine with scallops and black truffle, Supreme of pigeon en croute with cèpes mushroom sauce and cipollotti, and for an instant all that was heard throughout the dinning room was the jingle of the plates and silvers and murmurs of "scrumptious." Stepahnie collected her plate and attacked her defenseless food much like a wild savage in the jungle would when they were offered this amount of food after suffering starvation for the most part of their life. She had no care in the world for falling ill at the intake of the meal as long as she didn't have to talk to Trish.

"Whoa," Trish stared at Stephanie, her jaw agape with the speed that Stephanie was heaping the food into her mouth, wondering to herself where exactly she was going to store the amount of intake of food in her slender frame. "You sure must starving, someone must have forgotten you in the last re-run of Gilligan's Island."

Stephanie ignored the sarcasm in which she spoke and nodded her head, shoving a forkful of scallops and black truffle. She washed it down with a gulp of wine. "Yeah, I am starving actually."

"So, Trish," Giuliana called from the right of the head of the table from where Vince sat. "I hear that you were also in Brazil. Is it true that the Brazilian women don't wear their tops on the beach?"

"Well, to steal a page from the book of Kurt Angle, it's true, it's true." She giggled, plastering a playful smirk on her face. "But it's not entirely just the Brazilian women. I never really wore a shirt down there either. How else do you think I was able to get such a decent tan?"

Stephanie choked on a huge bite of scallop and disgorged it into her wine. It floated on the liquid like a life-jacket on the ocean would until Lenore whisked the glass away and replaced it with a new one for her.

Luckily for her, no one noticed. The whole table was captivated by Trish's adventures in Europe right down through dessert. When Stephanie finished her second plate of delicious food, she ate a full plate of Imperial gingerbread pyramid with caramel and salted butter ice-cream, commanding her brain to shut out Trish's voice while she spooned it into her mouth. Stephanie felt her stomach begin to revolt and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold the contents of her stomach for much longer. She backed her chair rapidly and was about to stand when her father beat her to it.

He gathered his wine glass in his hand, tapping it lightly with a silver utensil to grasp everyone's attention. "First and foremost, I would like to thank you all for attending the dinner party thrown in Giuliana's honor and I would now like to reveal to you all the reason behind it all,"

Stephanie could feel her breathing begin to get heavy as she glared into the tablecloth, trying to avoid everyones gaze, epecially her father's and Giuliana's. What exactly did her father plan to reveal to all his guest in attendance? Stephanie could only imagine at this point because her father had always had a tendacy of being very spontaneous and unpredictable. But this was it, the moment she had been anticipating all night.

"Giulana and I have been recently engaged, and we wanted to share the good news with you all today and invite you to be part of our journey together from here on after." Vince clasp his hand with Giuliana's and placed a sweet kiss on her lips after he sat down in place next to her.

Stephanie felt the like the wind had been knocked out of her with this sudden rush of news, what was her father thinking? Had he finally gone insane? As far as Stephanie was concerned, he had. And he sound be placed in an asylum as soon as possible to diagnosed his sick illness. Stephanie tuned out the cheers of congratulations and series of toasts aimed towards her father and Giuliana. She kept her mind set on finishing the dessert on her plate to keep the concentration of ignorant bliss. She shoved spoonfuls of dessert down her throat until her stomach had finally had enough abuse from her that night. She rushed her chair backwards, slipping off of it, and darting upwards abrubtly. "Please, excuse me," she said, not waiting for a reply and working herself away from view until she could finally sprint down the hall and into her adjoining bathroom as fast as her legs and heels could take her.

"Steph?" Trish whispered, quizzically. She stood out of her chair as well. "I'm sorry, would you all excuse me too," she stepped out of the dinning room area and hurried in pursuit of Stephanie to find out what was troubling her. She didn't really have to move fast, after all, it wasn't as if Stephanie was going anywhere.

When Randy caught a glimpse of Stephanie leaving the table, and then Trish following after her, he nudged Mickie's side. "Stephanie's getting the inside scoop from Trish," He uttered softly. "Fucking genius."

Paul began to feel unsettled at the dinning room table as he watched the two women walk out of the room with unease written all over them. He was absolutely positive that women only got together in the bathroom to talk about sex.

And often, he'd be right.

Stephanie kneeled down in front of the toilet seat, hovering above it before pushing her middle finger down her throat as far as it would go. Her eyes quickly began to tear up and her stomach began to uproar in disturbance, but fully used to the ritual. She'd done this before-many times. She knew all to well that it was wrong and the damaging effects it had on her, but as much as it was frowned upon-she couldn't stop herself, it was the only mechanism she knew that would help her cope with things in life. Well, for a while that is, because after she would eject all contents from her stomach, she would feel so disgusted with herself for having binged all those huge portions of food and then having to force herself to purge, that she would starve herself for four weeks as punishment. And then the whole vicious cycle would start all over again. At least she was consistent. If she continued though, pretty soon she and Kate Moss would be mirror images of each other, but for now, she could still remain content with her nice, slender figure.

The door was only half way shut, and as Trish entered Stephanie's room she could hear her spewing her insides.

"Stephanie, it's me," Trish spoke cautiously. "Are you okay?"

Stephanie groaned underneath her breath when she heard Trish. "Jeez, I'll be out in a minute!" Stephanie snapped at her, wipping her mouth with the back of her hand quickly. She stood to her feet, flushing the toilet and straightening her dress briefly.

Trish opened the door farther away to let herself in. "Didn't anyone teach you how to knock on doors during your infancy?" Stephanie glared at her from the mirror, turning the faucet on to wash her hands. "You're suppose to wait for a response." She sniffed, taking her toothbrush and rollling the necessary anount of mint fresh, gelled toothpaste.

"If you must know, I am fine." She said before scrubbing her perfect-white teeth. It's a good thing she had money to afford a good dentist who could maintain her teeth in decnent health. She grabbed her long hair in her free hand to prevent it from getting in the way of spitting out the toothpaste foam. "Really."

Trish sighed, walking toward the toilet seat and placing the cover down so she could take a seat. "Oh, Steph don't be such a bitch, will you?" Trish ran her fingers through her hair, feeling a giant spurge of exasperation.

"What is wrong with you? It's me...your best friend, Trish, remember? We know everything there is to know about each other." She watched Stephanie as she placed her toothbrush back on it's rightful place on the holder.

_Says the women that moved away without a forewarning_, thought Stephanie. She took the toothpaste's lid and sealed it back on. "Once upon a time...we used to, yeah." Stephanie ran her fingers through her hair, settling it to look like it before. "I mean, how long ago was it since we had an actual conversation?" She turned to face Trish, daring her to answer.

Trish shrugged her shoulders, sliding her arms to her knees and letting them rest there. "The winter before last?"

Stephnaie scoffed, "That doesn't hardly count as a conversation." She studied Trish's distant, spaced-out look. "Exactly my point, Trish."

"Stephanie, I'm so sorry. I'm the worst, I know." Trish sighed tiredly, facing Stephanie.

Stephanie resumed back to staring at her reflection in the mirror. "Well, things change. You tend to miss a lot when you move out of the country without a word." She said, applying fresh,new black eye-liner. "The last year has been so surreal and...diffrent." She paused, correcting herself before revealing to Trish that it had actually been "difficult" for her since she'd been away. She wasn't going to give her the satisfaction, she'd seem as if she was unable to survive without Trish. "Different" was definitately a better choice of word to fill in the blank.

Stephanie allowed herself one mere glance at Trish who was bitting her lower lip as she sat on top of the toilet seat. "Paul and I have really grown closer to each other. We literally tell each other everything."

Uh, yeah...right.

Trish stood up from where she sat, taking a stand next to Stephanie. She reached for her Chanel tube of red lip-gloss from her pocket and offered it to Stephanie. "You don't need to worry about me and Paul," she voiced. "We're just freinds, that's all-but you know that already. I'm sick of men anyways."

Stephanie refused her red lip-gloss and opted for her own pink blush lip-gloss, applying it carefully on her lips. "Who said I was worried?" Stephanie raised her eyebrow.

No one really has to, it's written all over you, Stephanie.

"No one, I just thought that I'd emphasize on that. You know, just to put the cards over the table. Like I said, I'm sick of men."Trish huffed.

Stephanie felt the corners of her mouth pulling upward, painting a smirk, but she was able to tone it down before Trish noticed anything. She secretly allowed herself to smirk on the inside though. She knew very well that Trish wanted her to ask her why, _why _she was sick of men? But Stephanie refused to give her the pleasure. She took a step back and admired her reflection. "Okay, well, I'll see you back in the dinning room." She said, leaving the bathroom in a hasty exit.

_Fuck my life_, Trish thought, but she stayed still in place. It was evidently useless to go after Stephanie when she was in such an awful mood, her own shadow was barely able to tolerate her at this moment. Things will obviously be back to normal tomorrow at work-well, if Vince even gave her back her job. She would make sure that she and Stephanie had one of their heart-to-heart felt conversations when they went out for lunch. It wasn't as if they would just stop being friends with each other.

Trish studied her reflection in the mirror, flipping her hair away from her shoulders, and spraying a bit of Stephanie's Imperial Majesty by Clive Christian. Finally, she peed and then left Stephanie's room to rejoin everyone else, forgetting her lip-gloss in Stephanie's bathroom.

When she made her way to the table, she saw Stephanie glaring daggers at Giuliana simultaneously while eating another serving of Imperial gingerbread pyramid with caramel and salted butter ice-cream, Paul sat in his seat, deep in thought while his mother tried explaining something to him, Randy raised his wine glass and clicked it against Trish's, she wasn't exactly sure what she was toasting, but Trish was always game for anything.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, I had to share this video with you because after I watched it I got the idea to do the story, they just reminded me so much of Blair and Serena's love/hate relationship and for those you that get the concept of the show or book, or even here for that matter, you'll understand why. It's when Stephanie appeared on MTV's Tough Enough, copy and paste the link: .com/watch?v=F8cYQ647HOs And then Paris Hilton's song Jealousy just kept ringing in my head and it was like sweet chin music to my ears. Anyways, I personally prefer Blair's character to Serena's but it's a difference of opinion.


	6. XoXo, Devious Diva 02

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the WWE characters or anything WWE related, they all belong to Vince McMahon. The concept of the story is kind if Gossip Girlish, so I guess that belongs to Cecily Von Ziegesar, I just altered it some to fit with the whole WWE scheme of things.**

**A/N: **Hey guys! I'm back...and I'm better than ever. Has the greatest of times visiting my sister and watching SATC 2, Flawless movie by the way. I'm also happy that my laptop has been fixed and is no longer sick anymore, what a relief. Anyways, I realized I didn't put the whole like that I wanted you guys to watch, the one that inspired this whole nonsense, so here it it again .com/watch?v=F8cYQ647HOs Um, well, read the chapter and have let me know what you think. You know you love me, xoxo, KKDollZ! ; )

* * *

**D**evious**D**iva. net

**Disclaimer:** Real names of people, places have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Mainly, yours truly…me.

**Hey WWE Universe!**

**T SEEN TRAFFICKING OUTSIDE OF THE MUSEUM OF SEX**

Well, so far things have been going off to an interesting start, have to say that I am really enjoying the drama that is starting to unfold. You sent me a million billion x 1 of emails and I read through them ALL. Yep, that's how much I really take you into consideration, but, don't flatter yourself by any means. Thank you so much, by the way. Now, don't you just love being bad.

**Your E-Mail**

**Q:** hey devious diva,

i heard the new york city cops found a blond, naked girl handcuffed to a pipe outside an alley.

the police reports claims she looked deranged when they saw her, like she was high on heroin

or something of the sort. She said she was brought there by her own will, and everything was

consensual. they thought for sure she was part of some underground sex cult, do you

think that was **T**? i definitely think that fits her description, right? Laterz.

~vickyyy3

**A:** Dear Vickyyy3,

I really haven't a clue to tell you the truth, having said that, I wouldn't be the least bit

surprised. **T** is into the whole foreplay. Once, during tour in Europe, I accidently walked in on

her and another Superstar in a locker room performing all kinds of kinky shit. Acts that would

surely make Jenna Jameson blush unwillingly.

~DD

**Q:** Dear DD,

I have to admit that my name begins with a **T** and I just so happen to have blonde-sandy hair.

I recently just returned from Canada to Connecticut. I had all the fun in Europe that I possibly

could have, and now I am back to raise hell in the states. Okay, so down to business, I am

hosting a major party down in my condo, want to come? O.o

~T69

**A:** Dear T69,

The** T** I am talking about lives in a mansion in Toronto and has a replica of it down in

Connecticut. Claims she wants to be as close to her bestie as possible, but was she talking

about Steph or Paul? These are the questions that keep me up at night. Love to attend, but

sadly, I'm booked with work in the WWE, but you go and start the party without me, you

little lucky whore ; )

~DD

**Q:** how you doin' devious diva?

last night some men i know revealed to me that a women with frosty-blonde hair got into a

strangers automobile in the late hours of the night in front of the museum of sex. she was

wearing an 100% Stratusfaction Guaranteed diamond belt. coincidence, i think not!

~AnonymouS

**A:** Dear AnonymouS,

_Wow_, is all that I can muster in concrete words.

~DD

**Houston, We Have A Problem**

**M** is trying out a new outfit, part of a collection of her new in-ring attire, and she seems to be having a bit of trouble looking flawless in her new wardrobe. Looks like someone has not been hiting the gym as much as they swear up and down that they have. **V** offers her an apologetic smile, wondering to herself how **M** allowed this to spiral in the direction that it has. Can't say that I can sympathize for her, I've never experienced this ordeal firsthand.

**Spotted**

**R** leaving another tattoo parlor, wonder what he got done this time around?** S**'s father was seen leaving a trendy-chic resturant with his newly engaged partner, so, when's the wedding? Also seen: a women with an uncanny simliarity to **T**, sporting a bright red wig and some dark sunglasses leaving a rehab center. Yeah, nice disguise, whatevs. And at after hours, **T** was seen staring dejectedly outside her bedroom window, can you imagine the crazy shit she was doing locked away in her room before?

Well, don't opt for the cowards way out, hun. Things are just starting to look up, so don't do anything I wouldn't do ; )

That's all for now, see you tomorrow at work.

You love to hate me, XoXo,

**Devious Diva**

* * *

**A/N:** If the link is still cuckoo-bananas, just go on youtube and type Stephanie on Tough Enough. That should do the trick.**  
**


	7. Round and Round

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the WWE characters or anything WWE related, they all belong to Vince McMahon. The concept of the story is kind if Gossip Girlish, so I guess that belongs to Cecily Von Ziegesar, I just altered it some to fit with the whole WWE scheme of things.**

**A/N: **Omg, I was just going through the other chapters that I have posted and I noticed some typos! I promise you that I actually take the time and edit these things because I always like to give a good first impression in everything-especially in my writing because that is my form of communicating with you all on here, but idk, for some reason I do have some typos and I know we all make mistakes and I'm not the exception to the rule, but I thought it was just weird 'cause I know I went through and fixed my errors, so yeah...I apologize for that. Okay, now I'm wondering, does that happen to everyone when they post their fics, or does this site just hate me? LOL! Okay, well anyway, enough about that and here is the latest chapter-happy reading and thank you all for the reviews! I really appreciate it and I enjoy reading them-it makes it all the more fun when I am writing the fic, and seriously just thanks for taking the time to write them and expressing to me what you guys think about it! (Using crazy, screeching-reminscent of a Justin Bieber fangirl voice) Oh, and before I forget-did you guys hear about the news? NO? YES? Well, who cares if you did-Randy Orton has a Twitter now! It's RealRKOrton if you guys are wondering. Yeah, I was happy when I found out about it too, I like to know what they are up too-ALL THE TIME!(And scene! I'm being sarcastic here by the way, I'm just making fun of everyone that made such a big deal about it-I thought it was hilarious. I actually dislike, twitter, myspace, and facebook-I don't understand the fascination around them because nobody needs to know what you are doing 24/7. I don't mean any disrespect to anyone-it's not my intention to offend you at all, but that's just how I view the whole craze) Anyway, here's the chapter! :D

* * *

Round and Round

"Hey everyone, long time no see, how was your weekend?" Mrs. Goldstein, or as everyone preferred to call her, Goldie, was one of the company's Executive Officers in the Board of Directors. She sat firm, hands interlocked with each other, placed at the head of the table as she spoke. She was in charge while Stephanie's father, accompanied by the other half of the Board of Diectors, tended to other more important business matters. "I really hope that you all had a wonderful weekend at Vince's dinner party. I for once, had the greatest weekend up in Kansas and it was very serene."

All ninety-three employees at WWE, and it's sixty faculty and staff members suppressed their snickers and amusement. Every single one of them knew that Mrs. Goldstein was having and affair with a woman up up in Kansas. Her name was Rhonda, and she was a computer forensics specialist.

Oh, Bible and preach that shit, sista!

Goldie liked to pride herself in her work. She was definitely not one to tolerate meanness. She said the workplace was supposed to be a bully free zone, that anyone who was old enough to work, should be treated as an adult-and treat others around them with the respect and courtesy that they most certainly deserved. Her utmost favorite saying was, _"If we all worked on the assumption that what is accepted as true is really true, there would be little hope of advance."_ The most minor of defamation of anyone, especially within reach of her ears, would surely face the consequences-one week suspension and a month without pay, because defamation of charcater was of zero tolerance in the company-by all Board of Members. But in all reality, those punishments were hardly ever to be enforced. Goldie and the rest of the Board of Members were joyfully ignorant. She doubtlessly couldn't hear any of the mumblings going on towards the back of the room, the area where Stephanie and the rest of the women sat.

"I thought you said that Trish would be arriving back here today," Natalie Neidhart whispered simultaneously to Mickie James.

That early morning, Stephanie and Victoria and Mickie and Natalie had all gathered together for their usual morning trip to the local Starbucks to accompany their routinely nicotine fix. It had become second nature to them as they had been following the same ritual religiously for approximately two years now, and they honestly half expected Trish to tag along, since Stephanie and Trish were the originators of this routine, she was well aware of their whereabouts. But everyone had been summoned to the arena fifteen minutes ago, and the girls had yet to run into Trish.

Stephanie grew angry with herself for allowing the distress to intensify within, but even so, she was nowhere near as angry with herself as she was with Trish. She hated the fact that Trish had created such mystery around her return than there already needed to be. She felt her stomach churn as she heard her friends whisper, skewing in their seats, waiting at times with bated breath for a small sneak-peek of the glory that is Trish, as if she was the Queen of England herself-enlightening them with her mere majestic presence.

"Chances are she hasn't arrived because she's too doped up on drugs to even tell right from left," Mickie James offered her input, whispering softly, so only the they could hear her. "I mean, was I the only one that noticed that long hour she spent locked away in Stephanie's bathroom last night? God only knows what she was doing in there."

"I heard something along the lines that she is trafficking drugs in front of the museum of sex...or, was it trading sex for drugs? I don't even know anymore, but I think she has a serious problem, she's an addict." Victoria told Natalie.

"If you think what you are hearing is bad," Mickie added. "Just wait until you see her for yourself, she's a total mess, one utterly, huge, and complete hot mess."

Natalie nodded, "Yeah, I can imagine. I heard she was part of some underground sex cult."

Victoria unleashed a small chuckle. "I'm starting to wonder if she'll ask us to join."

"Are you serious?" Mickie said. "She can hitch rides from total strangers and live the vida loca, getting high, doing sexual favors guaranteed of all the kinky shit she knows, but I for once know that I don't want to be a part of it. I refuse."

"I hear the initiation is the most insane part of joining their sex cult. Something about a dungeon, a master, some shackles...a little bit of this and a little bit of that, but I can't even muster the rest in words-it's just so degrading." Victoria chimed in.

"Ew, that's disgusting." Natalie spoke. "I think I just gagged in my mouth a little, why do I have to be such a visual person?"

"Now, I would like to hear some of your input and allow you to voice your opinions in front of all your peers. After everyone has been heard we can kind of brainstorm together, so we can find some common ground and propel the company to a more prosperous direction, because you know what they say...together everyone achieves more." Goldie announced. "Who wants to start us off?"

WWE Diva, Barbara Blank, or just Barbie, better known to all by her on-screen name of Kelly Kelly, raised her hand and waited to be called upon. All one hundred and fifty-three pair of eyes settled on her as she stood from her seat.

Trish noticed the amount of cars parked in the arena's parking lot as she made her way around the corner, she cursed herself under her breath for not being on time. She wondered if old age was finally getting to her. Not that she was insanely old, but how else could she explain not hearing the deafening alarm clock? She hadn't been up this early since her last match at the Unforgiven PPV against Lita a.k.a. Amy Dumas. And most importantly, she had forgotten how bad it felt to be up this early. Good thing she hadn't set up a meeting to talk to Mr. McMahon earlier this morning or she would have been late for that too, and that would have been something humiliating in it of itself. Lucky for her, Mr. McMahon had pulled her aside last night before the end of the dinner party to learn exactly what it was that Trish had to say to him. To say he was ecstatic about Trish wanting to return to the company was a complete understatement.

Barbara Blank spoke softly and eloquently in front of the rest of her peers, faculty, and staff, glancing occasionally at the bulletins she had jotted down in pen on her note-pad before finding the courage to stand in front of everyone. It had taken her almost all summer to find this newfound attitude, she was slowly but surely getting better at it. It was still a working progress, but she knew inside her that she had to follow through because she was tired of people in the company overlooking her and not talking her seriously whenever she had something of importance to say, she knew that people only thought of her as something pretty to look at, but not to hear.

Although she had preferred to be invisible, and secretly still did, she knew this was escalating into a problem and she had to make a change for the better. She was long and lean, with beautiful sleek blond hair and a little rookie within the company. So opting to be invisble and wanting to keep a low profile wasn't such a bad thing. Actually, she was every guys wet dream, they practically undressed her with just their eyes, so the task was sometimes difficult for her but nowhere near impossible.

Can you imagine a day in the life?

Barbara was standing at the front row located at the right of the main table, next to one of the windows that overlooked outside the arena. Suddenly an abrupt movement coming from the opposite side of the window caught her attention. Traces of golden-wheat hair strands where flying erratically. Classic navy Lauren Moffatt toggle coat. Trendy turquoise suede boots. It's not a combination that Barbara would choose for herself, but the woman on the opposite end of hers made it work flawlessly. Could it possibly be...was it really...but it couldn't...No way! But it cleary was?

_And in fact, it was_.

A few minutes later Trish Stratigias rushed open the doors of the room where the meeting was being held and stopped in front of the doors to find a vacant seat. She was breathing heavily, trying to catch some air while running her fingers through her windblown hair, yet somehow, still very model-chic on the front cover of Harper's BAZAAR. The apples of her cheek were light with a flush of baby pink and her eyes were bright and awake with the run from the parking lot to the meeting room. She looked even more perfect than Barbara could have ever imagined.

"Oh. My. God." Natalie murmured back to Victoria from their place in the back of the room. "What the hell is she wearing? Did she like, randomly pick out her outfit from the nearest thrift store?"

"And look at her hair? Hasn't she ever heard of a brush?" Mickie laughed lightly. "It's so tangled and disheveled...maybe from the results of a quickie with the first guy to have crossed her path in the parking lot."

Barbara cleared her throat as she came to the conclusion of her speech. "I hope with what I have just spoken, you will be able to further understand the fact, that we collectively..."

"Look there, you see," Mickie pointed out. "With all the layers of clothing Trish is wearing, I think it's safe to say that she is definitely trying to hide the first stages of her pregnancy." Mickie finished with a low voice as she waited for Natalie Neidhart to chime in.

"Hmm, it could be that she just had an abortion earlier in the morning and she's trying to cover up the fact from prying eyes. That could explain why she didn't meet with us and why she is late now." Natalie offered back in a whisper.

"My father organizes a lot of charities with Sphinx House," Victoria informed Gail Kim. "That is how I will find out if Trish has been there. I am almost positive that that is why she came back midway through the year. She has certainly been to rehab to detoxify herself from all that excess waste in her system."

"I hear that people in Europe are starting this new trend where you blend castor sugar and ceylon cinnamon and tea and just snort it. It's like crack, but it makes your skin break-out in hives if you end up doing it for long periods of time." Michelle McCool joined in the conversation. "Your nose starts to shrink and you develop a huge gap in the cartilage that serves to separate the two sides of your nose."

Stephanie's anger faded away as she heard fragments of her friends' colorful dialogue, scraping a smirk with her shimmering pale-rose lips.

Goldie turned to acknowledge Trish's presence, nodding and smiling in her direction briefly. Once Barbara had finished with her speech and was seated back down in her place, did Goldie stand at the head of the table to formally introduce Trish to all in attendance.

"Everyone, I would like for us all to take the time to welcome back our old friend Patricia Stratigias. Patricia has been reinstated into the company once again as of last night from what I understand." Goldie paused to offer her another smile. "Why don't you find yourself a seat so we can continue with the meeting, Patricia?"

Trish walked through a parted aisle until she fund a vacant chair next to a quite but intimidating Oleh Oleksandrovich Prudius, or Vladimir Kozlov, yeah...that's less complicated of a name.

Barbara could barely contain her excitment. Trish Stratigias! She couldn't fathom in her head the idea of Trish Stratigias being in the same room that she was in, breathing her same air, and only three feet away from her! She was the real deal and she was there in such close proximity. And so complete with the poise of maturity.

_"I wonder what is the exact count of times that she has had sex?"_ Barbara inquired to herself.

Silently Barbara imagined Trish and a tall, dark, and handome Greek man on the hood of his car in the middle of a deserted gravel road...bodies covered in beads of sweat, hearts racing, panting, and eyes full of lust-totally caught up in th heat of the moment. Then Barbara wondered off into a different scenery of Trish and another one of her imaginary men on the porch swing, having an intellectual conversation under the night sky as their witness until they shared a very passionate kiss which then lead to things getting a little more physical, and they ended up having sex-a lot of hot sex, until early dawn.

_How astonishing,_ Barbara thought. No contest, Trish Stratigias was easily the most astonishing woman in the entire universe. Positively more astonishing than the other Divas. And even more impressive coming in late, in the middle of the year, and looking like _that_.

Trish hadn't had a haircut in over two years, and if it was even possible, her hair was looking a lot longer and rougher than it had last night-definitely beautiful, the whole shagginess of it worked well for her. Her featherweight white pocket-tee looked a tiny bit wornout, and through it, you could catch a glimpse of her pink lace bra. She tied up the look with a pair of black, stretch legging-fit jeans. The turquoise suede boots still made her stick out like a sore thumb, calling more attention than she already had swirling around her arrival.

"What the fuck is she wearing?" Victoria Crawford seethed.

"Maybe in her twisted head she thinks that hideous turquoise looks like Alexander McQueen or something." Gail chuckled back.

"I think she's trying to make a bold declaration," Mickie countered in a low voice. "Like, look at me, I'm Trish, I'm gorgeous, and that means I can wear anything I please."

_Of course she can_, Stephanie thought. In fact that was one of the things she loathed about Trish, she could wear anything and never once make the cut on the worst dressed list. She looked amazing in everything and anything!

But enough about how Trish looked. What Barbara, and really everyone for that matter, wanted to know was: _Why is she back?_

They strained and stretched their necks to get a better view. Did she have any bruises? Was she high? Could she be pregnant? Perhaps sporting an alcohol monitoring bracelet? Any tattoos? Anything different with her at all?

"Is that a scar on her neck I see?" Natalie said in a hushed voice.

"She could have had her throat slit one night when she was trafficking drugs," Victoria spoke back. "Speaking of scars, I heard that she had a face-lift this past summer in Europe, the surgeon had some minor-or, in her case, probably major complications during surgery. It's starting to make a lot more sense now since you claim you see a scar on her neck."

Goldie resumed to addressing everyone in attendance. Trish just relaxed in her seat, crossing her legs in front of her, sealing her eyes shut, and allowing her hands to rest freely on her lap as she tried to delight in the moment, being surrounded my all the superstars and divas and the people who had become her friends, listening to Goldie's voice. Looking back at it, she couldn't understand why she had been so nervous in the first place. She'd accidently overslept that morning and had to get fully dressed in ten minutes, grabbing the first selections of clothing that made her feel comfortable and feminine at the same time. She'd opt to wear her sister Christie's featherweight white pocket-tee that looked slightly wornout and her other sister Melissa's turquoise suede boots. She missed her sisters an awful lot and this was a way to keep them somewhat close to her.

"Oh my God, the she has some nerve falling asleep." Victoria whispered to Gail.

Gail shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe she had a long night settling back in, she must be tired," Gail responded. "Or maybe just a long night trading sex for drugs in front of the museum of sex. You know all those raunchy men would line up at the idea of having sex with Trish Stratus, "Canada's Greatest Export" what a joke. Heard she was the sole cause of the spreading of venereal diseases in Europe- and she was run out of the country for it."

"Oh, don't forget all those trips in the late hours of the night to the local store to load up on munchies after getting stoned. That must take a lot of her time-especially since I'm sure that she's a steady user." Mickie finished, sending the women into a series of giggles in the back of the room.

Stephanie had to chew the insides of her mouth just to keep from laughing. It was just too hilarious.


	8. T's Other Fan

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the WWE characters or anything WWE related, they all belong to Vince McMahon. The concept of the story is kind of Gossip Girlish, so that belongs to Cecily Von Ziegesar, I just altered it some to fit with the whole WWE scheme of things.**

**A/N: **Okay, well, I have finally found time to dedicate to this and my other fictional stories that I have going on, but I am still attending school, and that is my first priority, so I will try to post a new chapter every two weeks. So yeah, just keep checking in for that, and I hope that you guys enjoy the next chapter and I look forward to any comments, questions, or concerns that you all my have. And with that, I guess I will let you get to the story! :)

P.S. Oh, and **SuperDooperMario** I think that maybe if Triple H got a twitter, I could maybe-and that's a huge maybe, change my mind about twitter 'cause I absolutely admire him-and I would probably just make an account to try and get him to respond to something of mine. So I probably would freak out just like you! And it would make it all the more better of Stephanie had one too! :D

* * *

**T's Other Fan**

If Barbara could have heard what the rest of the women were saying about Trish Stratigias, her icon, she would have k2 their ass right then and there. The minute that Goldie wrapped up the last of her speech, Barbara rapidly jumped out of her chair, pushing and shoving through the rest of the Superstars, Divas, and other employees, to place a very important phone call. Her best friend John Cena was going to freak-out when she shared the good news.

"Hey, what's up?" John Cena said into his phone after the fourth ring. He was walking out of his brother Daniel's house after picking him up from the hospital, which was mainly the reason why he couldn't attend the meeting-family emergency.

"Guess who's back?" Barbara squealed.

Very much like John, Barbara was somewhat of a loner, although one would never think so at first glance, this was very much true. Whenever Barbara needed to talk to someone, she always called him. In fact, she was the one to buy them the cell phones. John never thought he needed a cell phone since he never ran with a huge circle of friends, he didn't see the need in having one. He always thought that if someone needed to reach him with urgency, they'd surely find a way to do so.

"Barbie, can't this wait until later-" John began to say, in an annoyed tone that only a best friend can.

"Trish Stratigias!" Barbara interrupted him. "Trish is back in the company! I saw her during the meeting! Plus, Goldie herself said that she had been reinstated into the company, Mr. McMahon's doing-I'm sure of it. Wow, can you believe it!"

John felt a gush of wind hit him as he stood three feet away from his car. His breath caught in his throat, unable to form the words. He felt as if his feet were unable to propel forward.

Trish Stratigias. He took a long sip from his bottled water to refresh his dry throat. He nearly missed his mouth due to the uncontrollable jittering his hands were making.

"John!" His best friend yelled into the phone, snapping him out of his trans-like-state. "Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth? Can you hear me at all? Did you just hear what I said? John, work with me here! Trish is back. Trish Stratigias."

John nodded his head to regain his thought process, swallowing down the thick lump on his throat. "Yeah, I heard every word you spoke," He voiced, forging disinterest. "What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" Barbara responded in disbelief. "Oh, sure, whatever, like you didn't just almost shit in your pants. You are just so full of it, John."

"No, Barbara, I'm absolutely serious." He said, aggravated. "Is this why you called me? What's it to me if she's back or not, Barbara?"

Barbara huffed an exasperated sigh. John could be so irritating at times. Why couldn't he be normal, just this once, and allow himself to revel in the moment? She was just so over his focused, career-orientated, isolated from the rest of humanity, introverted act he had going on.

"Fine. You know what?" She started. "Just whatever, ignore what I just said. I'll just talk to you later when you are not in such a flaky mood."

She ended the call and John placed the cell phone back into the nearest pocket of his faded jeans. He lifted up his signature _Never Give Up_ baseball cap a mere inches above his head to run his right hand briefly over the top of his head, letting it rest on the back of his neck as he dropped his cap back into place. He exhaled, taking in his surroundings.

_Trish Stratigias._

They had first met in a company party, one of the many that they threw for no reason in particular, but nonetheless, they were all expected to attend. No, wait. That wasn't entirely true. John had first set eyes on Trish at a party, _his party_ as a matter of fact, the only party that he had hosted in his very own apartment located in his hometown of West Newbury, Massachusetts. It was June of 2006. The party had been Barbara's idea, and after long days of persuasion, John finally gave in. John invited the entire WWE roster and told them to invite as many people as they wanted to the party. That night, more than two hundred people showed up, and one of John's many brothers, Matt, made sure to keep the liquor flowing at all times among the guests, the outcome...a lot of awkward, and mostly-regrettable one night stands, killer hangovers during work the next day, which by the way-are not very tolerable when having to put on a match for the thousands in attendance-and millions watching around the world. Having to restrain from tossing your cookies all over the ref, the opponent of the night, and oneself-is not an easy task at all, but it is one to be admired when successful at it. It was the best party that John had ever been to, even if he actually did say so himself. Not necessarily because of the alcohol, but more because Trish Stratigias had actually been there. Disregard the fact that she had been a drunken mess, acting like hot shit as if she was the life of the party, but in all seriousness-she was, so technically she did have reason enough to feel entitled to feeling like hot shit, and John...couldn't exactly keep his eyes off of her. Afterwards, Barbara informed him that Trish had been appointed by the company to be kinda like a mentor to her, being as young as she was and having no prior knowledge in the craft of wrestling, and Trish being the top Diva then, the company saw it as only fitting that Trish teach her the ropes of the business. Trish having once been in Barbara's position decided to take on the task. From then on, Barbara had been his own little messenger, reporting back in detail exactly everything she'd seen Trish wear, do, say, etc., and telling John about any upcoming events where he was sure to catch a glimpse of Trish again. Those events where the rare few though. Not because there weren't many events taking place-there definitely were, or because Trish preferred to keep away from public view-she loved being in the spotlight and constantly being adored by the millions-but because there weren't very many events that John had even the slightest chance of attending. John didn't belong in the same world in which Trish and Stephanie and Paul and Randy lived in. He wasn't really anybody, he didn't associate himself with the right people in the business. He was just...average, even for someone in the entertainment business.

For the remainder of Trish's tenure with the company, John followed her like a lost puppy, craving, from a respectable distance. He never did sum up the courage to talk to her. When she went away from the United States, he tried to forget everything about her, sure that he would never see her again, unless by some act of God himself that she would consider returning to the company again.

And now she was back, she was actually back.

John walked the remaining distance to his car and just sat there in silence. His mind conjuring up a million thoughts per second. He could host another party. He could ask Barbara to make the invitations again like before and then get her to sneak one into Trish's belongings in the women's locker room. When Trish arrived into his apartment he would walk right up to her, thank her for attending the party on such short notice, offer to take her coat, and then welcome her back to Connecticut.

_With every day that came to pass, more clouds appeared until the sky went black, and there was no sunlight while you were gone,_ he'd say poetically.

Then they would ditch the party and find themselves somewhere a little more private, strip each other naked, and kiss each other on his leather couch located in front of the fireplace and the burning flames as their witness and a testimony to their new found love. And when everyone left the party, they would share a couple of cold ones, John's favorite. From this moment on they would spend every waking moment together. They would move in to a home of their own, he'd allow Trish to be in charge of all the interior design. Trish's friends would try on end to tempt her back to her old ways, but no more spontaneous outings, no more shop-till- you-drop shopping sprees, no more charity ball events, no more black & white-tie parties, no excessive and lavish party could ever lure her again. She wouldn't care if she had to give up her materialistic lifestyle and cut all her ties with her spoiled friends. Trish wouldn't mind living in modesty if it meant she could spend the rest of her days with John.

"Hey, get out of the fucking way!" The driver from behind John honked, yelling and flipping him the bird from the side of his window.

John snapped out of his thoughts and did as the man behind him suggested, turning his directional on to find his way inside the arena's parking lot. He gathered his belongings together, making his way inside with ease and only stopping when he caught a glimpse of Randy Orton's conversation with two of his company buddies, Nicholas "Nick" Nemeth, former member of the Spirit Squad-who now flies solo by the ring name of Dolph Ziggler and Stuart "Stu" Bennett, the main storyline leader of The Nexus, Wade Barrett.

"Excuse me." John said, clearing his throat and attempting to make his way through the trio.

The three didn't even bother to acknowledge him, and really...why should they? They had been raised to believe in different morals and values than John had. Sure they worked in the same company as John, but that still didn't mean they were in the same level. They never even noticed him, he was basically nothing to them.

"Dude, check this out," Randy began, lighting a cigarette and bringing it up to meet his lips, sucking hard on the inhale.

He was just too pathetic.

"Guess who I saw last night?" Randy voiced, blowing out a pattern of O's in gray smoke.

"Charlize Theron?" Stuart joked.

"Ah yes, and I am sure that she was all over you, right?" Nicholas chuckled, joining Stuart.

"Actually no, no, not her. Trish Stratigias," Randy informed them.

John's ears cheered up just as he was about to lock himself away in the men's locker room. Instead, he tossed his suitcase in the locker room and stole a cigarette from someones duffel bag on his way out. He searched his pockets for a lighter and easily lit up his cigarette, giving himself an excuse to remain outside and eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Well, Stephanie's father held a party in honor of his now fiance, and Trish was there," Randy paused, meeting Stuart and Nicholas' stares, the corners of his mouth phasing into a smirk. "And she was all over me. She literally has got to be the sluttiest woman I have ever met." He took on last puff of his cigarette before dropping it inside the remainder if his bottled water and discarding the plastic bottle in a near by trash bin.

"Is that so?" Stuart said, raising his right eyebrow, reflecting interest.

"Yes, yes it is so. And before I go any further, I just recently found out Trish has been fucking Paul Levesque behind Stephanie McMahon's back since before she left the company. I'm telling you, she's a real slut that one."

"No fucking way, dude!" Nicholas laughed, amused. "I mean, isn't Trish suppose to be like Stephanie's best friend, or something?"

"It's Trish we are talking about-we can expect anything and everything from her. And, from what I hear, she is sluttier than ever. Europe was every bit the experience for her, if you know what I mean. I heard she is also infested with STDs. Someone said they saw her stepping foot inside a clinic, sporting a wig and that whole shit, you know."

Randy's friends shook their head, all three men laughing at her expense.

John had never in his life heard such bullshit before. Trish Stratigias was certainly no slut; she was absolutely perfect and amazing in every way humanly possible way, wasn't she? _Wasn't she?_

But that is yet to be confirmed.

"So, have you guys heard anything about that charity party?" Nicholas asked. "Are you guys going?"

"What charity party? I have yet to hear anything about it." Stuart responded back.

"Is it that whole partnership with the _Make A Wish Foundation_?" Randy added. "I believe Stephanie mentioned something to me about it. I think it's going to be taking place in the old Bloomies store. Everyone who is anyone is attending."

Of course everyone didn't include John. But it most definitely included Trish Stratigias.

"They are scheduled to send the invitations out this week." Nicholas told them. "It's the_ Live. Laugh. Love._ party."

"Oh, yeah, right it is!" Stuart said, the name of the party triggering something in his memory. "And I am assuming that there will be a lot more than just living, laughing, and loving going on in that party." He jeered. "Especially if Trish will be there."

The men continued with their fits of laughter, congratulating one another occasionally for their amazing wit.

John had had enough of their ridiculous talk. He disposed of his cigarette and shoved pass the three men, laughing loudly all the while at their annoyed and angry grunts, making sure to piss them off even more. Then he turned towards the outside doors in search of some air, banging the doors shut harshly behind him.

_Laugh at that_, assholes.


End file.
